


Two Hearts

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autism, Bucky Barnes Feels, M/M, Sensory Overload, Steve Rogers Feels, Stimming, autistic headcanon, autistic!Bucky Barnes, neurodivergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 18:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8067895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: Bucky is diagnosed with Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Steve learns how to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my experiences with my own autism.

Bucky rubbed his eyes until his vision filled with granular, greyscale patterns. The lights got no less bright, still aching in the back of his head, invasive and penetrating. Steve watched from across the room at the cycle of eye-rubbing, then eye-covering, then altogether surrender. Bucky’s hands fell into his lap, defeated, and the flesh one tapped agitatedly against his thigh. The metal one flexed and writhed, the joints popping rhythmically. The desperate rhythm seemed to spread like a shiver through the soldier’s body, reaching his feet.

Steve had read obsessively about autism since the diagnosis, a new and insidious term that had made its way into his vocabulary quickly. It was at least, an explanation, a key to more ways that he could try and help Bucky cope. At first, the anxious movements had upset Steve. He had gone so far as to wonder whether they were seizures, something deeper and more troubling. Now he could put a name to them: stims. He also knew that they did not always signal distress, but excitement or calm too.

“I can dim them if you want, Buck,” Steve offered from his place on the couch, “The lights.”  


Bucky nodded.

“You can dim them if I want,” He parroted back.

Echolalia. Another tick box in Steve’s head.

 _Better the devil you know,_ his mother would have said, but Steve wasn’t keen on seeing this disorder as a devil. Just a rare personality; a beautiful, faceted and colourful one.

Steve walked over to the dimmer and turned it, watching as the lights sunk into a less jarring orange glow and Bucky relaxed a little. His hands continued their feverish dance.

“Hey,” Steve sighed, sitting next to Bucky, “Hold my hands.”

Bucky lifted his and placed them in Steve’s. It broke the circuit of movement, his legs jiggling in place of his hands. Steve imagined the feeling as best as he could, the unescapable need to move and self-soothe. It seemed frustrating, even from a distance.

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hands in his own, circling his thumbs on top and maintaining a pressure that would be uncomfortable for anyone else, but that he knew worked best. He moved his thumbs in the rhythm of slow breathing, knowing from experience that Bucky would adopt it.

“Better?” Steve said quietly, his knees against Bucky’s.

Bucky leaned into Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He blew out a sigh of hot air, making goose bumps flare across the Captain’s shoulders.

“You smell nice,” Bucky mumbled into the warm, dark space.

Heat, shampoo, worn-in cologne, something natural, familiar and calming. There was a loose thread on the right shoulder of Steve’s t-shirt, the one with brushed cotton and a picture of a dolphin on the back. It was cornflower blue, his favourite colour. The fabric felt good, changing texture when rubbed one way to the next.

Steve’s breathing was slow and deep, going from near inaudible, to warm, navy coloured bass when Bucky moved his ear to the centre of Steve’s chest. His heartbeat was a metronome to all of this, measured and slow, lulling against Bucky’s, like they beat together. Bucky ran his fingers up to the tape of Steve’s neck, running the tips over his hairline where the shortest hairs faded up into longer ones, prickly and soft at the same time. Like velvet.

“You are so, so wonderful, Bucky,” Steve whispered into the top of his head, pressing into the hug and squeezing Bucky a little tighter.

Bucky chuckled softly, a sound that warmed Steve to the core every time he heard it. He started to sway gently from side to side. Steve followed, rocking with him.

“You wanna’ dance?” Steve asked.

Bucky pulled away and grinned, the smile reaching his eyes.

So they did dance, in ambling circles around the warm orange apartment until the world faded away until it was nothing but two pairs of feet and two hearts that beat together.


End file.
